Ignorant Questions

Yesterday, at the Missouri History Museum, a couple of men that work there were relaxing. I was sitting down because when I have to stand without moving much my legs give me a lot of trouble now. Looking at my sons, taking in some exhibits along a hallway in view of these men, one asked me if they were my sons. Because I had them at an advanced age, I’ve often been asked if I was their grandmother. To one young girl at Chuck E Cheese years ago, who didn’t believe I was their mom, I could honestly tell her, she wasn’t totally wrong because I was a grandmother to two grandchildren. When my husband caught up with me yesterday, these men remarked on him being a “good dad”, which he is. I always knew he would be and so, when he admitted to me after 10 years of marriage that he actually did want to have children after all, I quickly agreed to carry his children.

While not everyone will agree with the advice I was given long ago, but I have lived by it. Never ask a question that might be overly personal, uncomfortable, intrusive or embarrassing. Even so, I do get asked and will always answer, even the most ignorant of questions.

Today’s story is about that kind of situation. A woman who is a kinship caregiver shares – Our nephew has been placed with us since he was 2 months, and is now 2 years old, so will be starting to understand soon. People in public obviously just assume I’m mom, and say stuff like “are these your kids?” Or “how old are your kids?” (I also get a lot of “dang girl, don’t you know what causes that?”) My nephew and my daughter are less than 9 months apart. I’m not sure what is best in that situation. Is it necessary to point out I’m not mom? Will that hurt is feelings and make him feel out of place? He knows his mom, and we refer to her as mom, but I don’t think he has quite grasped yet what that means. I’m not sure how to get him to develop more of a relationship with her. She can only make it to see him about once a month, and I am a stay at home mom, so we are together 24/7. He runs to me when he is hurt or scared, and cries when she first takes him out of my arms. I know it hurts her feelings. He does cuddle her and play well with her once he warms up. Should I even be pushing, or let him go at his own pace?

One suggested – You don’t owe a whole explanation to strangers but it’s easy enough to say “he’s my nephew” and change the subject.

Another shared – Regardless of whether the kids with me are being fostered, are my forever kids, bonus kids, kids friends, nieces/nephews, when asked if they’re all mine or something similar I say something along the lines of “they’re all with me” “why do you ask?” Or “Does it matter?” Depending on the tone of the asker. If someone says something like “don’t you know what causes that” or “wow you started young”, I’ll say “don’t you know when to mind your business?” Or “wow you’re too old to not know better than to ask such personal questions.” I’m not playing with people that can’t mind their business, and I’m not explaining myself to strangers. As for the bonding, it will happen.

Another admits – I typically come back with a smart ass comment when people ask if they’re my kids! Why the hell do they need to know that, it’s none of their business!! (blogger’s note – I suspect I am just too nice with strangers. LOL I probably assume they don’t know better.)

I did like this straight forward response – Just say he is your nephew. The truth.

This one made me chuckle – If they are not close enough to you to know who he is, they deserve ZERO explanation. It’s absolutely no one’s business but his and yours. I have 3 kids who are within 5 months of each other. Not twins or biological to me or each other. They aren’t even the same ethnic background as me or each other and we get the same “don’t you know what causes that?!?” Remarks. My response is “oh my god! no!! i have no idea!! please educate me!!!!” then stare at them. Makes them so uncomfortable.

Another kinship caregiver explains – I never wanted to take that title away from any child’s parent, even if I was doing the things a parent would do. I agreed to take on those responsibilities. I don’t need to have the title. To which the original woman explains – a lot of adopted people I know tell me they would have felt “othered,” if they had been discouraged from calling their “parents” mom and dad. I don’t care about the title, I just don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s not adopted, but they have told us this will be a permanent placement. Everyone is telling me to not let him call me mom, but I can’t look at a two year old and basically say, “no, MY kids can call me that, but you can’t.” When I play the same role in all of their lives, and have since he was a newborn. A former foster care/adoptee explains – I hate that even now I am the “other.” I hated having to explain to my peers why I didn’t call the people in my home mom or dad. Now I hate when I have to explain that the people my kids call grandma and grandpa aren’t my parents. (Or my husbands either) I struggle so much with that.

One foster parent notes – I think we all have to agree that there can’t be any one “right” way to parent, because every child/person is different. But I think there’s a common goal of putting the child’s needs first, while also preserving the relationship with his birth mother.

Someone else pretty much shares my own perspective – I think more people should mind their own business and not feel enabled to ask such personal questions as freely as they do. There have been some great cordial smackdowns in some of the other comments. I would use those liberally.

Another adds – I say he is my nephew. If they push anymore after that, I will tell people to not assume or ask. If it’s someone you’re going to see repeatedly, then it may be worth a response, but for random fly-by interactions, they aren’t owed anything. This was a good reply – When asked if all were my kids, I always smiled and said yep, its my hobby to collect ’em. Another replies – “That’s an incredibly inappropriate question to ask a stranger.” Or “Didn’t your grown ups teach you, if you didn’t have something kind to say, you shouldn’t say it?”

Assumed Name and False Identity

Each of my parents was born with a meaningful name indicating family and personal relationships given to them by the woman who gave birth to them. In the kind of inside joke that only two adoptees could share, my dad sometimes called my mom by the name she was born under – Frances Irene.

It appears that the Frances may have come from a family that helped my grandmother when she first returned to Memphis with her two month old daughter. She probably had some connection to them before she gave birth to my mom in Virginia. When investigating my mom’s circumstances before adoption, Georgia Tann noted some vague family relationship between my grandmother and this family. I’ve been unable to track that back through Ancestry in order to prove it.

It appears my maternal grandmother was sent away from Tennessee to give birth by her father, after her lawfully wedded husband returned to Arkansas where his mother was caring for two daughters given him by his deceased first wife. Why he left her 4 mos pregnant or why he didn’t come back when informed she was in Memphis with the baby, I can never know though my heart yearns to.

Irene was the name of my maternal grandmother’s own mother who died when my grandmother was only 11 years old leaving her the woman of the house in charge of caring for her four siblings, two girls and two boys, the youngest only about a year old.

My mom’s name was changed to Julie Sue. My grandmother adopted a boy and then a girl through Georgia Tann and the Tennessee Children’s Home Society, Memphis branch. She stated in a letter to the society’s administrator that she wanted a Jill to go with her Jack. My mom’s adoptive brother was named John. So my adoptive grandmother was subtle about that heartfelt intention of hers when re-naming her children

When a person is adopted, their name is often changed by the couple that adopts them. Sometimes their date of birth and even the geographic location where they were born may be altered on the new birth certificate created for the adoptee showing the adoptive couple as their parents, as though these people gave birth to them.

It turned out the name my dad was given at birth was an important clue to his identity. My paternal grandmother named him Arthur Martin. Arthur was the man married to her aunt and she was working at their motel and restaurant at the beach in La Jolla California when she met my paternal grandfather. Unfortunately, he was also a married man. By the time she knew she was pregnant, she probably knew that marital status related to him as well. It appears he never knew he had a son.

Martin was the name of the man who fathered my dad. When I connected with a cousin who lives in Mexico, I discovered that she had my paternal grandmother’s photo albums (a real treasure trove of images). Next to a photo of my grandmother holding my dad in her lap, was the headshot of a man and she wrote his name, Martin Hansen, and boyfriend on the back.

My adoptive grandmother named my dad Thomas Patrick. The Thomas was the man she was married to when she adopted my dad. Since his birthday was only one day off from St Patrick’s Day (and that is why I never forgot his birthday), that may be the only reason for the Patrick part of his name.

However, she divorced that man and re-married and so my dad was adopted twice and his name changed again when he was already 8 years old to Gale Patrick – the Gale being her new husband’s name. It may not have been too confusing for him because he was called Pat all the years I knew him, at least.

In addition to the name changes, an adoptee is dropped into a family they were not born into but must “pretend” their whole lives they are related to. I’ve not cared all that much about names, though I like mine and now that I know about my original grandparents find a “family” connection because my paternal grandmother’s oldest sister was also named Deborah. She was hit and killed by a reckless teenage driver when she was only 3 years old.

Too Old ?

It is still Foster Care Awareness Month and today, the questions was asked – Should someone in their 50s be able to adopt infants and toddlers from foster care ?

I encounter this as an older mom from time to time. I responded – Recently, visiting my primary care doctor, my youngest son came up and she asked – how old is he ? I said 16-1/2. She did the math quickly – you had him at 50 ? I said, yep. I know this is about adoption and foster care but honestly, it really depends on so many factors. My grandmothers both lost their YOUNG mothers when one of them was 3 mos old and the other one when she was 11 yrs old. The length on any life is simply not guaranteed. I do think health matters. I was put through a whole battery of tests including a heart stress test before being allowed to conceive my last son at such an advanced age. Agencies could require additional health assessments for older persons.

Just before I responded, I was happy to see someone else reply – I was 50 when I had a newborn placed with me for a weekend due to an abuse allegation on a foster parent. I adopted him at 53.

One wrote – While I don’t agree with anyone over 55 adopting (I don’t agree with adopting at all) my state allows people to foster and adopt well into 65.

And of course, it is very common these days to see grandparents raising their grandchildren. I know at least one in that category. So this answer did not surprise me – I fostered my 3 grandchildren (4 & under) at age 53 and adopted them at 56…no way I was letting them go to strangers.

And this view from experience – My parents were that old and I did fine. Only disappointment was that all of my older siblings were my biological mom’s age or older. At 28, all my siblings are old enough to be my kids grandparents. Because they are in their late 40s, early 50s now. Other than that, I still did everything – with sports, dance, went on vacations. They kept up. With me and my little sister who they adopted when she was 1. And I was 6 at the time. Maybe they should have just stopped with me. But I wanted a little sister. So, when she was literally dropped at our door and the mother terminated her rights, they adopted my little sister too.

A concern was expressed but this smacks of ableism to me – I see it every day at work, as soon as our older ladies step in with the kids (especially the toddlers), the children do not get the kind of engagement they need from the caregiver. Toddlers and kids need someone who can physically be involved in their play and in their development. From my experience, older women and men are not usually able to do that for them. That’s not to say the kids don’t love the older ladies, but they know they can’t ask them to play or help because of their limitations. I’m very old school (you know, “get over it and go play”.)

I remember my mom always sent us outside to play – without her !! Out of hair and need for giving us attention – though we knew she loved us. It was just how she was (she had me at age 16 and my youngest sister at 22, so she wasn’t old). I would add until very recently, I will be 67 later this month, there were no physical limitations on the “play” part and we did “play” with our kids. I’ll admit my knees have crapped out a bit, so I can’t do the long hikes anymore. My husband just turned 69 this year and he runs every day – so the physical stuff he can still do with his sons – and he is always willing to have fun. The older one is now 20 and not so much into “play”, actually for that matter the 16-1/2 yr old isn’t either. They are pretty independent of us for entertainment. My husband does like to joke with the youngest one that he’ll be changing his dad’s diapers some day. It really isn’t funny – experienced this stuff with my in-law’s before they died and with my dad after my mom died. It happens. It’s reality.

One commented – How embarrassing would it be at your high school graduation having to explain to your friends that the old lady with a walker is your mom? Yet, I think, would they say this about a person in a wheelchair. In this week’s Time magazine is a feature on Rebekah Taussig – a disabled mom who has paralyzed legs. And she writes about such everyday things as learning to lift him (her baby born during the pandemic) from the floor to her lap, or in and out of his crib, or up and over the baby gate on her own.

I suppose appearances matter a lot when your life is determined by your peers. Maybe we’ve avoided a lot of that comparison angst because our sons are educated at home because we have a home based business and are here all the time anyway. They have grown up with mature conversations and exposure to people of all ages – from babies to people much older than us up in their 80s or 90s.

Of course, I liked this response too –

I’m 50 and have such an issue with this. I’m going to ask that you give your age with your response. I’m tired of people implying that I am too old to do anything. I ran a half marathon in February, I work a full time job and a part time job and just hiked for 4 days straight – over 20,000 steps a day. How dare you all restrict women and what they can do at any age! I am a teacher and an owner of child care centers. I have more patience and experience and knowledge than the vast majority of 20-30 year olds.

I had my daughter when I was 19. I find this too. I may have behaved more like a child with her than I have with my sons but I have gained so much from years of living that is also an advantage over how I was when I was that young.

Another one wrote – My grandma (just found out, not even biological, through 23 & Me) started raising me when she was 60 and I had the best life and upbringing I could have ever asked for. She never missed a beat and was way cooler than all of my friend’s parents. To this day she’s my best friend.

I think I’ll just end it here. There is no one size fits all on this kind of issue. One argument the person who asked the original question made – in response to the above was – Adoptees already have so much stacked against them, that older parents just add more layers. Fair but . . . . again, no one size fits all . . . . even with the experience an adoptee has in their circumstances. I’ll make my anti-ageism stand here.

Adoption Can’t Give This

Dr Nelson, in his book – Healing the Split, suggests the ideal gestation, birth and infancy circumstances for healthy development in a child. This goes beyond the obvious and unavoidable trauma of separating an infant from their natural mother or any emotional distress that mother feels while pregnant and planning to surrender her baby to adoption.

Here is what he suggests – some of the best pregnancy, birth and infant care advice I have already encountered during my own last two pregnancies and baby care days, beginning in the early 2000s.

In pregnancy, this mother might be treated as special by her own loving selfobjects, so that she finds it easy to maintain a placid inner state. Her pregnancy would allow her extra time to meditate regularly and through this practice she establishes an unspoken communion with her unborn fetus with the subconscious residues of her own early life experiences resolved.

As the time of her child’s birth nears, the mother rehearses breathing and pelvic exercise to facilitate her natural delivery. As the child enters the world, he is welcomed into a softly lit room, the predominant feature of which is his mother’s warm skin and breast as she gently bathes and massages him.

The synapses that are rapidly proliferating within his still unfinished brain form a physical supporting grid for a psychic self that is primed to accept soothing, is ready to trust and can intuit a sense of belongingness.

As the newborn’s psyche begins to construct holographic patterns of the consensual world, his empathic parents instinctively anticipate his needs, neither overstimulating him nor leaving him wanting. Wordless harmonies resonate between him and his caretakers and condition his own fundamental vibrational patterns. These harmonies are periodically broken by inevitable frustrations and deprivations but timely reunions with empathic parents quickly restore synchronous patterns within his psychic field.

As the child grows into a toddler, empathic mirroring enlivens his tentative explorations of a world apart from mother, followed by just a little extra soothing that directs his psychic energies along navigable neural pathways. This compensates for his inborn exaggerated stress reaction and enables him to incorporate his mother’s self within his own without fear of engulfment. His self-secure mother joyfully encourages his wary independence and offers a fresh measure of support during what is a particularly lengthy rapprochement period. This insures that his slowly forming self-boundaries can withstand the social challenges that this unusual child will later endure.

As the child learns to communicate, his parents take pains to be consistent in their rewards and punishments. When he is excited and hyperaroused, they set firm limits on his behavior and they teach him to cope with this and similar altered states of consciousness by monitoring his breathing and concentrating on his inner awareness, especially his feelings. They teach him to ask for a massage and also to give one back. Both calm a turbulent arousal. Kindly, they teach him to laugh at them, and at himself.

Dr Nelson believes that as many as half of all permanently disabling psychotic altered states of consciousness could be prevented or diverted into a favorable life pathway if given the right start in life.